


Of Wastelands and Minefields

by comfortinglies



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: Bucky Barnes Remembers, First Kiss, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mind Control Aftermath & Recovery, POV Bucky Barnes, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Pre-Civil War (Marvel), Steve's Second Name Is Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-17
Updated: 2015-10-17
Packaged: 2018-04-26 19:10:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5016883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/comfortinglies/pseuds/comfortinglies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When he kisses him for the first time, it's almost like a declaration of intent.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Wastelands and Minefields

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Companion](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/150625) by comfortinglies. 



> Alright, trying to keep it short: hi everybody, this is my first solo fic on this website as well as my first English fic EVER, so I guess sweating even if outside it's freezing cold is a perfectly normal reaction, isn't it? (English is not my native language, so I _really_ want to apologize in advance for any mistakes.) The one you're going to read is the translation from Italian of a double-drabble I wrote a couple of days ago for a Stucky drabble challenge; the prompt was 'Companion', so please appreciate the effort I, the girl who _hates_ choosing titles, made to find a different one to post it separately from my collection. Thaaanks.  
>  Before leaving you to it (keeping it short, yeah self, of course self), just one more thing: to Elena, for her limitless patience and for giving me some useful advice both on this fic and its original version - THANK YOU. This one's for you. ♥

Bucky's mind is full of traps.  
(“Don't look at me like that.”)  
Like inseparable twins, doubt and uncertainty quickly blossom where there was nothing before. And they make him angry: a dull, constant rage.  
(“Like what?”)  
It happens every time Bucky glimpses that expression – that agony in his eyes that speaks of helplessness and insurmountable fears.  
_I don't want your pity, Steve._  
(“Like I might suddenly slip off your hands.”)  
The Soldier's mind was a wasteland; Bucky's is a minefield.  
When he kisses him for the first time – open-mouth, breath ragged and the illusion of his skin's heat lingering on his own left palm – it's almost like a declaration of intent: _it's me, I'm still him, I want the same things I wanted seventy years ago._  
Then, one request only.  
_Look at me the way you used to._  
And in the following, never-ending moment, Steve does. He looks at Bucky not with the worn out hero's eyes, but with the boy's; not with the legendary Captain's, but with Steve's, _Stevie_ , _his_ Steve – that wonderful, lionhearted punk Bucky would have gotten himself killed for. And would still.  
Companions. Warriors. Halves.  
Bucky's mind is a minefield, but together they can dismantle it. 


End file.
